Tis the Season
by Oneturtledove
Summary: Scuh-leeeeee! I'm Siiiick! That about sums it up.


Disclaimers: Um. Let's see. They are not mine. That's all I got.

A/N: Dear Best friend. Get the swine flu out of your babies noses. I miss you guys.

* * *

"Scully."

"Help! I've fallen and I can't get up."

She sighed and switched the phone to her other ear and tried to balance the laundry basket on her hip.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sick."

"Sorry."

"I'm really sick, Scully."

"That's too bad."

"I mean, I am really, really sick. I blew a hole through my Kleenex."

"Lots of sleep and lots of fluids."

"You're not going to come over here and take care of me?"

"Nope."

"But... you're a doctor! Didn't you take a Hippocratic oath?"

"It did not involve taking care of my partner every time he gets the sniffles."

"Could you at least tell me what kind of cough medicine I should buy?"

She sighed again.

"Do you have a fever?"

"Yeah."

"Then you're going to need something with a fever reducer. Probably something that has a cough suppressant in it. Are you coughing anything up?"

"I was before, but I haven't in about an hour."

"Are you achy?"

"A little."

"Well then make sure you get something that will cover all the bases."

"What if they don't have one?"

"Mulder, do you want me to go to the drugstore for you?"

"If you don't mind..."

"Fine. I'll be over in an hour."

"Hey, this isn't as bad as the time you made me go to the drugstore for feminine products."

"Mulder, I couldn't move. And you offered."

"I had to get out of there before you screamed a hole in my head."

"Okay, okay. I will go get your medicine and then we will be even."

"Thanks, Scully."

* * *

She planned on dropping off Mulder's medicine, making sure he took at least one dose, and then going home. But then she saw him. Pale, sweaty, and shivering, laying on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes.

"Mulder?"

He groaned and she sat down on the coffee table, reaching over to check his temperature.

"I didn't know you were this sick."

"I can fake wellness well."

"Have you taken anything yet? Tylenol?"

"No."

She grabbed the bag from the drugstore and opened the Nyquil, measuring out a perfect dose before handing it to him. He took it without complaint, a sure sign that he was feeling like crap on toast.

"Why don't you go lay in your bed? It's probably more comfortable in there."

"I think the dust bunnies have turned it into a mosh pit."

She smiled and stood up from the table, shedding her coat and throwing it over a chair.

"You're staying?"

"I don't feel good about leaving you alone right now. We'll see how the Nyquil works."

She went to the hall closet and pulled out a big blanket, then draped it over him.

"I'm going to get you something to drink. Have you been throwing up at all?"

"That's kind of personal, and no."

"You want some water?"

"Sure."

She went into the kitchen and spent a while looking through the cupboards for a clean glass. She finally just washed an old one and filled it with water. When she returned to the other room, Mulder was snoring softly. She leaned down and tucked the blankets around his shoulders, then kissed his forehead before settling down in the chair and turning the TV on quietly.

* * *

She woke up to an infomercial about yoga mat bags. It was late afternoon, and her stomach was growling. She reached over and touched Mulder's forehead, finding that his fever was down, but still not where she wanted it.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"I feel like crap."

"I never thought I'd say this, but you really look like crap."

"Thanks a lot."

"Do you have a thermometer anywhere?"

"There might be on in the basket under my sink."

"I'll be right back."

She went into the bathroom bravely, not sure what she would find. His laundry basket was overflowing and the faucet was dripping, but other than that, it was relatively clean. She crouched down to look through the basket under the sink.

"Mulder, all you've got in here is a twenty year old bottle of calamine lotion, some Q-tips and some toothbrushes that have seen better days."

"Are you saying that I don't have a thermometer, or that I need to clean my bathroom?"

"Both. I guess I'm going back to the store. Drink that water while I'm gone."

"Will you bring me back some orange juice?"

"Sure."

"And some cough drops?"

"I suppose."

"Pixy Stix?"

"Not on your life."

"At least I tried."

"Rest, Mulder. I can't have you out of commission for too long. We have expense reports to do."

"You're a great motivator."

She smiled and slipped into her coat.

"Thermometer, orange juice, cough drops. Anything else?"

"I think that's enough. Thanks, Scully."

* * *

When she came back a while later, Mulder was sitting up, his feet on the coffee table, and a composition book open on his lap.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a list of all the people I have been around that could have gotten me sick. Someone is going to have to pay."

She shook her head and put the bag on the table.

"I suppose since you're feeling well enough to plot revenge, I can go home."

"Don't leave. I'll be bored."

"No you won't."

"All I have here to keep me occupied is the TV and my old seashell collection. I need companionship."

"You might actually be sicker than you seem," she deadpanned, joining him on the couch. "I'll stay, but if you're not really sick, you're gonna get it."

"Ooh, what is _it_?"

"A swift kick to the nether regions."

"You threaten me and steal my remote? I am discussing this cruel patient treatment with my HMO."

"Good luck."

She smiled and turned the channel until she found something they could both agree on. They settled back into the couch and it suddenly struck Scully how little thought she had given to getting sick herself. She did have a pretty strong immune system, but she hadn't once really thought about getting Mulder's cold. She couldn't remember either of them ever worrying about catching something from the other. She wasn't sure why that was, but she supposed that his germs just didn't bother her much.

They had obviously been working together way too long.

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"You don't really have to take care of me. I'll be fine on my own."

"I don't know about that, Mulder."

"What?"

"No offense, but your track record is kind of working against you here."

"How?"

"Last fall. You got bronchitis and decided to go for a three mile run."

"I felt fine."

"Yeah, until you were wheezing on the side of the road."

"Maybe I pushed myself a little too hard."

"Well I don't want to lose you to operator failure, so I think I'm going to stay right here. At least until your fever goes down. And you could pass a field sobriety test."

"I'm not that sick, Scully."

"I'm not taking any chances. You need to rest."

"I am resting. I have not been this immobile while fully conscious in my life."

"Bravo."

He grinned and turned his glassy eyes back to the TV.

"Is there anything else on?"

"I thought you would like this."

"I'm restless."

She sighed and handed him the remote. He smiled and flipped through the channels for a few minutes before finding _Star Wars_ playing.

"Is this okay?"

"Okay? Mulder, it's _Star Wars._ How could it not be okay?"

"Really? I never would have pegged you for a _Star Wars _fan."

"I was alive in the 70's. Of course I'm a fan."

"Favorite line. Go."

"Into the garbage chute, Fly-Boy."

"Somehow I knew it would be a Princess Leia line."

"Fine. Your favorite line. Go."

"But I was going to go to the Tashi station to pick up some power converters!"

She giggled at the whine in his voice.

"Scully, lets be Luke and Leia for Halloween."

"Let's not, and say we did."

"That works too."

"Go to sleep, Mulder."

* * *

The sun was rising when she woke up the next time. The room was bathed in a soft orange glow and it made her want to curl up and go back to sleep. Her eye roamed over her surroundings until she found Mulder staring back at her. They were about six inches apart, their hands joined between them. They stared at each other for a while and he made a few silly faces at her as they both approached a higher state of awareness.

"Why do you always steal my sweatshirts?" he asked, tugging on the dark blue fabric.

"That's just what I do. Get used to it."

"Alright."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Body aches, but that's probably from sleeping sitting up."

She nodded and yawned, noticing that their hands were still together. It wasn't something she planned to change anytime soon.

"You look a lot better."

"So I resemble a human again?"

"Almost."

"Thanks for taking care of me, Scully."

"I didn't do that much."

"You got me medicine. You fed me. You picked up all the tissues that didn't make it into the can. Face it. You're Mother Theresa."

She chuckled.

"You were a much better patient than I thought you were going to be."

"Is that right?"

"I thought you would whine and complain and make me strain the pulp out of your orange juice and refuse to take medicine and just generally be a big baby."

"No, that's you."

"Well hold onto your hat then."

"Why?"

"Because I feel like crap."

He laughed and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Oh Scully. 'Tis the season."

* * *

Required Elements:

Mosh Pit

Pixy Stix

Yoga Mat

Calamine lotion

"I never thought I'd say this..."

Composition Notebook

Sea shell

Wearing someone's hoodie

"Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!"

Silly faces


End file.
